At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.

Blistering performances.

Although I seem to have had higher expectations than I thought, the movie is super entertaining.

By the time the dramatic fireworks start popping off, each one feels earned.

Movie quote - "No man's born for marriage - He has to be trained."Released in 1950 - This fairly engaging, melodramatic vehicle stars Joan Crawford as the ultimate "Stepford" wife, a neurotic, nagging perfectionist who inevitably short circuits. And when Harriet short circuits, sparks (and vicious accusations) fly this way and that."Harriet Craig" is most certainly a very well-crafted soap opera of sorts that, due to the dead seriousness of its situations (and depending on how one views them), quickly becomes quite an enjoyable parody of itself. This, of course, allows the viewer plenty of opportunity to laugh out loud at the utter foolishness of Harriet's demanding relationships with those around her.Two of the highlights that take place in the course of this film's intriguing story-line are - (1) Much to her relief, Harriet learns from the professionals that mental illness is not necessarily hereditary - (2) Harriet goes to her husband's employer (behind his back) and out of complete, narrow-minded selfishness, attempts to ruin his golden opportunity for a prized promotion.Harriet Craig was adapted for the screen from the 1925 Pulitzer Prize-winning play "Craig's Wife" which was written by George Kelly.Filmed in glossy b&w, this picture was directed by Vincent Sherman whose other films from that era include - Backfire, The Damned Don't Cry and The Young Philadelphians.

You've got to hand it to dear Joan. At this stage of her career, she was willing to take on the most unflattering roles-- as long, I think, as they had a good change of wardrobe. Here, her Harriet Craig is the worst type of petty household tyrant, treating the help like unfeeling objects, and her husband (Corey) like a pet dog who must keep his place in her immaculate, precisely ordered mansion. In short, Harriet's a control freak.It's hard to work up the least bit of sympathy for Harriet, so complete are her demands and obsessions. Clearly, the perfectly arranged household and dutiful husband represent a profound need in her. In the end, however, she confuses people with objects, at the same time, she confuses her pet vase with people. She also lies to herself and others at the drop of a hat in order to keep up the pretense that this obsession amounts to a happy home. It's like she's idealized some pages in a woman's magazine. In a weird sense, Harriet represents the wifely homebody of the 1950's gone berserk.The production comes up with a number of nice touches that include the winsome KT Stevens as the sweet-tempered cousin Clare, (at times I wanted to reach through the screen to rescue her from Harriet's abusive clutches). But my money's really on the relatively unknown Viola Roache as the resentful maid Mrs. Harold. You can just feel her seething under some of Harriet's drill-sergeant demands. It's a nicely shaded, yet forceful performance. Anyway, it's also Wendell Corey in an uncharacteristic meek and mild role, though you might wonder why it takes his Walter Craig so long to catch on to Harriet's wiles. And of course, above all, there's the commanding Joan in a role patented for her fiercely formidable side, a gutsy role for her superstar status.

That is how maid Ellen Corby describes her boss, Mrs. Craig, in this third version of George Kelly's Pulitzer Prize Winning Play. Rosalind Russell's Harriett was a young woman with definite mental problems in the 1936 version. But she at least had youth on her side so with psychological treatment, it is obvious she could have made necessary alterations to change her into a better person. But Joan Crawford's middle-aged Harriet is really beyond help. She's deliberately cruel, treating servants with the condensation of Leona Helmsley and rubbing her power over them and everybody else in the house she worships with glee. Only housekeeper Viola Roache and maid Ellen Corby see her for who she truly is, although a few of husband Walter's friends see right through her and are blatantly uncomfortable when in her presence.In probably his best performance, bland Wendell Corey adds life to Walter who slowly wakes up to his wife's evil manipulations, which include lies not in Russell's version. Where Crawford succeeds in this performance is making Harriett's sexuality more blatant, verbalized as her "part of the bargain". K.T. Stevens seems a bit too worldly to be presented as a naive young woman. Watch her in the previous year's "The Port of New York" to see her as a film noir femme fatal role. She would later enter daytime soap immortality as the initially veiled mother from hell Vanessa Prentiss on "The Young and the Restless", passive/aggressively using her own death to try and destroy her hated daughter-in-law's life. Amusing performances by Allyn Joslyn as a playboy friend of Corey's and Lucille Watson as Corey's boss's life-loving wife add humor. I wanted to see a scene with Watson getting the truth from her husband Raymond Greenleaf, playing Walter's boss. Her presence is ironic considering that she played the wise mother of Crawford's rival, Norma Shearer, in the classic movie version of "The Women". The business aspect of Harriet's manipulations add a new dimension to her character, which leads to the revelation of one of the most malicious lies a wife can tell a husband. Fans of "Mommie Dearest" will take great pleasure in making comparisons to this and Crawford's 1955 melodrama "Queen Bee". When I first saw this as a teenager, I did not pick up on the psychological aspects of Crawford's character, truly a master at manipulation and using sexuality to get what she wanted, yet declining it when it didn't suit her purpose. Her mannish hairstyle makes her Harriett much more intimidating than Russell's kinder/gentler (and thus more dangerous) version. Crawford chews the scenery (including that oh so precious vase) yet you feel the pain inside her when she breaks down and reveals all the truths and feel sorry for her when it all comes crashing down on her. She's a model, not only for the man-hating realm of certain kind of feminists, but for anybody who puts social propriety and their own needs above those they claim to love. I wouldn't want a relative or friend like Harriet Craig, but she's somebody who is fascinating to watch rise, then crash and burn. You really can envision Harriet telling maid Corby, "When you clean the floor, you have to move the tree!"

I wonder if someone else has noticed a very strong political message within this film. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but it's certainly there: "Do not desire to be rich, the rich are very unhappy, irritable, aloof people so, stay put (happily) in your low social position and die there too, without making waves".Otherwise it's quite hard to swallow that a splendid woman, coiffed to death, dressed to kill, fully made up from morning till night, with a fantastic house, jewels, servants 24 hours a day, superb neighborhood, excellent husband, very good economic standards is set --in obvious negative contrast-- against her mousy widowed neighbor (always dressed with a drab little homemade dress and an annoying little child), humbly mending old clothes all the time, watering the garden or being quite meekly when paying a visit to La Crawford (this social contrast within the same upper class block of town?? come on...). So, as Harriet is being crucified for all her splendor, the mousy little neighbor is having a merry life in the kitchen cooking (junk food obviously) and --although they don't show it-- singing along "Happy Days are Here Again"...). Why is it that gorgeous La Crawford has to end up mending fragments of old porcelain (no epoxies then), alone and embittered (in a gorgeous gown though), while everybody else is having fun? I resent it. I truly resent it a lot. So, you see, with this kind of parable, the powers to be kept the masses happy within their humble little lives while they lived in their big mansions happily ever after, a La Crawford (without final punishment).